Retribution
by Margaritaville08
Summary: Peeta has always protected Katniss, after the hijacking leaves him scarred, Katniss will now have to try to bring back the man he once was. Pre-epilogue. M for lemons and language.
1. Chapter 1

It started out slowly. The "healing process", as Dr. Aurelius liked to call it. Baby steps were the key to not falling apart. At first I didn't leave my living room, setting up permanent residence on the couch staring vacantly at the empty fireplace, refusing to build a fire despite the warmth it would bring in this dead winter. I don't know exactly how much time passed as I stared, constantly lost in the horrors of my past. How could one thing, which could easily be contained in this brick structure before me, also completely alter the course of my existence. How could something as simple as fire, create me and then destroy me?

Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire.

My father, incinerated as the mines exploded, leaving my mother to her own sorrow.

Prim, engulfed in flames as Coin's deadly boxes detonated.

Katniss, the girl on fire. Literally.

My hands would run subconsciously over the melted skin of my torso and upper legs, then travel upwards to feel the short crisp ends of my hair multiple times a day. Fire had brought the revolution to being, created a new free world, yet with it had taken everything from me.

Time had no meaning to me, the only time I left the couch was to use the bathroom a short couple of steps away. I didn't dare use the kitchen, too many memories of our short time as a family in this grand house. Too many apparitions of Prim sitting at the kitchen table, her head in a schoolbook, her laughter ringing out as mother cooked splendors with my new found victor's fortune.

But worst of all was the oven. Even though he had never really baked at our house, I automatically envisioned him, pulling loaves of bread, or cookies from within its heat. His smile as he kneaded dough with just enough pressure to ensure it would be perfection when it rose. Him, the boy with the bread, who once loved me.

Greasey Sae and her granddaughter made daily visits to make sure that I stayed nourished enough to stay alive. They knew better to expect conversation and practically had to spoon-feed me most of the time.

As time passes, I think I'm improving, or at least numbing myself so I can no longer feel. I convince myself that I am putting things in the past, that is, until I hear an all too familiar hiss coming from the door. Not believing my ears I throw open the door, and there he is, ugly scrunched up face and all. He looks just as bad as I probably do, with matted fur and scratches across him, no doubt from wild animals. But somehow that stupid old cat made its way back here. Looking for Prim.

I yell at Buttercup and he hisses back, demanding to know where she is. It isn't until I say the words that the façade I have built for myself crumbles.

"She's dead." I clutch a pillow to my chest as tears make there way down my cheeks and I sink to the floor. "She's dead you stupid cat. She's dead."

The dam breaks and I slump over, my body wracked with sobs as Buttercup wails with me, until exhaustion overtakes us both.

I awake on the floor, pillow still damp with my tears, clutched to my chest. Hearing a purring I turn to find Buttercup up and alert, wide eyes guarding me. And from that moment on it's as if an unspoken bond was formed between us, sealing over a person we both loved and lost.

After months of pleading on Gresey Sae's part, I finally answer Dr. Aurelius's phone calls and slowly I begin to take baby steps. I venture outside for the first time and wince at the harsh sunlight. I only make it down the front steps before panic clutches at my chest as I eye the remnants of ash that have floated over from the decimated town, and I run back inside.

Baby steps.

Eventually I make my way into the kitchen and manage to hold my tears at bay for a couple of minutes before the dam breaks again and I slump against the wall, crying myself to sleep.

This continues with every room in the house over the next months, there is only one room I avoid, and that's hers. When I spy the withered blood scented rose on the study desk I grab the vase and hurl it out the window, not even satisfied when I hear Haymitch's geese honk in protest as it lands among them.

Haymitch has stopped by occasionally, neither of us people of words; we sit in silence for hours as he drinks his white liquor and then leaves. I slowly start to take better care of myself; after all bathing becomes a necessity after an extended period of time. My weekly phone calls with the doctor are more helpful than I care to admit, and I find myself taking little bits of his advice.

It isn't until the weather is warming that I am forced to face my past head on.

I am awoken off the couch by the sound of a shovel breaking ground right outside the window. I am alert and ready to take down whoever this intruder is, and am out the door before my mind has time to process what my body is doing instinctually. I come to a screeching halt as I turn a corner and my breath gets shoved from my lungs. His face is flushed from digging up the ground beneath the windows. A wheelbarrow with 5 bushes sits next to him. My mouth is talking before my brain can comprehend what is happening.

"You're back."

He stares at me for a minute, an awkward silence hangs between us as he scrutinizes me with his gaze.

"Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday."

Like me he is thin and covered in burn marks.

"What are you doing?" The words come out harsher than I intended and he can't hide the wince before I spot it.

"I wanted to plant these. For her."

My breath leaves me again as I take in the bushes. Primroses. I nod, my head not stopping its up and down motion as the nodding continues. I can't repress the tears that cloud my vision, or my knees that wobble and eventually give out causing me to crash to the soft spring earth. Before I know it warm arms are enveloping me rocking me back and forth in the dirt.

"I'm sorry Katniss. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." It's as if he's on repeat murmuring softly into my hair.

"It was a dumb idea. I'm sorry."

I violently shake my head no, and leap from his arms, stumbling to stand on my own two feet.

"No," I sniffle, "its not dumb. I want them."

And with that I'm gone, running back to my safe haven inside. And that is the last I see of the boy with the bread for a long time.

Although I successfully avoid him, his presence is ever lasting. The morning after the incident with the bushes I awake to find a warm loaf of bread on the kitchen counter. I eat a slice for breakfast, and toast another for lunch. Sae is pleasantly surprised to see that I am feeding myself and leaves earlier than usual.

I get used to this routine and eventually I can see the fullness come back into my cheeks, the hollowness leave my eyes. I'm nowhere close to healed, but I am taking small steps. This continues for weeks and I don't realize how reliant I have become on the comfort of the bread until one morning it isn't there.

I panic, and once again my body acts before my mind can think. I am sprinting over to his house, without knocking I burst through the door, relieved to find it open. My eyes scan the downstairs, my ears listening for any signs of life. When I hear the faint sound of running water coming from above me I sprint up the stairs, expecting the worst. I burst into the bathroom without warning and suck in a breath. Peeta is bent over the counter in nothing but a towel, his knuckles clutching the sides so tightly that they are white underneath the blood that pours from them. His eyes are closed, jaw clenched and he is trembling. The shower steams up the room, there is blood everywhere and the mirror lays in hundreds of pieces over the floor and countertop.

At the sound of the door slamming open his head snaps up, his eyes cloudy with fury and in a split second I am pinned against the wall, my hands over my head as he snarls at me. I can feel the warm blood dripping down from his cut knuckles onto my forearms.

"You," he sneers, "This is all of your fault." I wince as he presses his hands tighter on my wrist, but I remind myself I've had worse.

"You're just a filthy Capital mutt." His words cut me to the core as I flashback to his strong grip around my neck in 13. I gasp for breath as if his hands are around my neck now instead of pinning me to the wall as the memory breaches the forefront of my mind. I can see it as if it is all happening now, his hollow blue eyes on me, as if I was the enemy, right before his hand closes in on my windpipe.

"Peeta…" I manage to gasp out before I start hyperventilating. My breaths are growing shallow, my mind going into panic attack mode as my vision becomes blurry. I look up to meet those same blue eyes, now riddled with confusion, trying to sort out the real memories from the hijacked ones. The darkness is taking over my vision now as the memories flood forward and my body does what it must to shut out the traumatic events and everything goes dark.

I awake on a bed that isn't my own. It smells of flour and cinnamon and musk and I inhale greedily before opening my eyes and pushing myself into a sitting position. I am in Peeta's room, in his bed, and he is sitting in a corner as far away from me as possible with his head in his hands and his elbows propped on his knees. His head snaps up when he hears me move and his eyes are bloodshot and puffy, as if he's been crying. I can see from here the cut on his knuckles has started to scab over but he has done nothing to clean the dry blood that ran down his arm.

We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, yet not enough time at all, before he lowers his head in shame.

"Katniss I…" He trails off and for once in his life Peeta is at a loss for words.

"It's ok." I manage to whisper. His head shakes in disagreement.

"No! No its not ok. How could you even say that? I almost-" He cuts himself off before saying too much. I ignore him and remove myself from his bed, walking over to his corner before reaching out to touch his cheek. He flinches away at my touch and refuses to meet my eyes. Instead of words I force myself next to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he struggles to distance himself for me.

"Please," I whisper. "Stay."

He halts his struggling and heaves a deep sigh.

"Katniss, it's not safe. I'm not safe."

I put my finger to his lips, effectively silencing him.

"Stay."

I cuddle into his side, his warmth soothing me as we sit with each other. My gaze catches his bloodied hand as I take it into mine, my fingers scraping off as much dried blood as they can. We sit there until my limbs go numb, neither of us speaking, just existing together once again. Finally when the light coming in through the window starts to fade I get up, shaking the sleep out of my limbs before extending my hand to Peeta. He stares at it before accepting it and letting me pull him to his feet.

I silently lead him to the bathroom that he didn't destroy and run the warm water before wetting a washcloth. I dab at his bloodied hand as gently as possible but I can still see his eyes flinch when I press to hard over the opened wound. I check to make sure that there isn't any of the broken mirror glass stuck in his hand before I go looking underneath the sink for some medical supplies. Finding a small first aid kit I put some disinfecting cream on his cuts before wrapping them in bandages.

He says nothing as I do this, only stares as I work on his hands. As I reach up to push a stray lock of hair out of his eyes my shirtsleeve falls down to my elbow, revealing dark finger shaped bruising on my wrists. This doesn't get past Peeta and he gently grabs my arms, pushing both of my sleeves up to survey the damage. His heartbreak shows in his eyes as he lightly traces the bruises his fingers left on my wrists and he shakes his head, clearly ashamed with himself.

Taking a step back from me he turns and looks out the small bathroom window.

"You should go Katniss. I'm sorry about everything."

The sentence hangs stagnant in the air between us. I don't want to go. For the first time since I've returned to 12 I am feeling something besides anguish, and I don't want to let it go. Just as I open my mouth to protest he turns to me, his steely blue eyes piercing my soul.

"Just go Katniss."

His words are harsh and unlike the Peeta that I knew during the games. Yet they are also a reminder that things can never return to the way they were, for either of us. Both of us are broken beyond repair, never to be fixed like new, no matter how many pieces are glued back into place.

I turn on my heel and flee, as usual. When I manage to get home, I pass out on my bed, and that's when the nightmares start. They flash quickly, from my father, to Prim, to Madge, Finnick, Mags, Boggs, Darius, Rue, every face that's ever died because of me haunts my dreams. I see in vivid detail every one of their deaths, and every time even though I know what is coming, I am helpless to stop it. I awake in a cold sweat, breathing heavily, and decide that sleep is not going to come again that night.

The next day I find the courage to go to Haymitch's and find him asleep at his kitchen table, bottle in hand. His geese are perturbed; they probably haven't been fed in a while, and honk at me while I'm in the house. I decide to clean some of the disgusting mess that Haymitch calls home and open his fridge to find it bare. I'll tell Greasy Sae to take care of him instead of me from now on.

I have to pass Peeta's house on the way back to mine and allow a small smile when the smell of fresh bread flows through his open windows.

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><p>So this is a bit of a feeler story... if I get a bunch of feedback I shall continue!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_Previously_:

_"Just go Katniss."_

_His words are harsh and unlike the Peeta that I knew during the games. Yet they are also a reminder that things can never return to the way they were, for either of us. Both of us are broken beyond repair, never to be fixed like new, no matter how many pieces are glued back into place._

_I have to pass Peeta's house on the way back to mine and allow a small smile when the smell of fresh bread flows through his open windows._

* * *

><p>The bread continued to make its appearance on my counter in the following weeks, however its creator was absent from my life. My healing continues at a snails pace, but Dr. Aurelius assures me that these things take time. As spring comes into bloom so do the bushes Peeta planted outside of my house and I take note that they will need trimming and upkeep. Determined not to let them die becomes my hobby, and every morning I find myself kneeling amongst the dirt and mulch caring for the plants as if they were delicate flowers instead of sturdy bushes.<p>

Sae mentions something about possibly ordering other seeds to plant a larger garden and a week after I mention it to my doctor a package arrives for me containing all sorts of plants that have the ability to grow in the climate of 12. I spend hours upon hours in my garden, meticulously making sure that not a single weed can be found amongst the seedlings. My body absorbs the suns rays and my scarred skin burns when exposed to the UVs, forcing me into long sleeves in the hot summer sun. It is a hindrance, but a necessity when you are a patched up rag doll with melted skin like myself.

One day when I come downstairs I find a large bottle next to the loaf of warm bread. Confused, I pick it up and read the label, discerning that it is some sort of salve meant to block the sun from burning skin. I change back into a tshirt before rubbing the lotion across the scars not hidden by my clothing and wait a little for it to absorb before heading out to the garden. Even though I haven't seen hide or hair of him, he has obviously been observing me. Even now, he is still saving me.

I am pulling out various weeds from the dark soil, my hand reaching to close around a green stalk when I freeze. My breath catches in my throat as I gaze at the familiar yellow petals of the weed in front of me. My hand releases the plant and I fall back onto my butt, staring intently at the flower as if it could jump out of the ground at any moment.

I know I should pick it. After all, dandelions are weeds and if I don't get rid of it, it could invade the rest of the garden I worked so hard on. But as I stare at it I am thrown back to the day in the rain with the bread, and the small yellow weed that gave me hope. I shake my head and leave it, knowing that the repercussions for my garden might be disastrous but I can't find it in me to uproot the plant that I will forever associate with the boy living next door, the boy who has constantly saved my life, the boy who gave me hope.

As if he knows I'm thinking about him, the front door to his house swings open and he steps out into the sunlight. It is then that I am reminded that he is no longer a boy. His blonde hair is illuminated by the mid day sun, the rays flushing his pale skin which is stretched over miles of hard muscles, built from the trials that his life has put him through. His scars are a darker color than the rest of his skin and I can see them peeking out of the top of his white tank top that he has on, as well as down the expanse of his arms. His prosthetic leg is visible below the tan cargo shorts he has on, however his real leg is muscular and strong, the muscles bulging from underneath the scarred skin. This is one of the first times since we've been home that I have actually _looked_ at him and I realize that my earlier descriptions of him were wrong, Peeta Mellark is no longer a boy, he is a man.

I am caught staring at him as his eyes quickly meet mine before looking away. He turns to make his way towards the path that will bring him to what's left of town but for some reason I have an intense need to talk to him. It's the first I've seen of him in weeks and I find that I missed the contact that we had; however brief and emotional it was. I push myself up from the dirt and lung out after him, afraid if I let him go now he'll slip through my fingers forever. I call out his name and come to a screeching halt as he quickly turns around at the sound. I am panting from the short sprint, my body not used to physical excursion, no matter how minimal, after months of decaying on the couch.

We are a couple feet away from each other and as his steel blue eyes meet mine I forget what I wanted to say to him. Instead I am standing in front of him, no doubt covered head to toe in dirt, my hair likely a mess, gaping like a fish as my brain scrambles to find the words that I so desperately wanted to say.

A subtle smirk quirks his lips and he raises his eyebrows at me as if to tell me to just spit it out, but for the life of me I cant remember why I was so eager to get over to this awkward encounter.

"I see you used the sunblock."

His words are like a refreshing balm to my mind as it finally comes to me.

"Ah. Yea that's what I was trying to say."

He cocks an eyebrow, clearly amused with my response.

"Erm. Thanks. I wanted to say thank you for the bottle."

He smiles a little half smile before nodding his head.

"You're welcome. You looked ridiculously hot out here in long sleeves."

A shade of pink floods his cheeks as he realizes that he's just admitted to me that he's been watching me from his house and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck nervously, and just for a moment my old Peeta is back and I want to desperately cling to him.

"Peeta I-"

"I gotta go Katniss."

He turns on his heel and tromps away, leaving me standing in his front yard, words I so desperately need to tell him left hanging on my tongue.

That night when Greasy Sae brings her granddaughter over to cook dinner I walk into the kitchen and offer to help. The look on her face is so amusing that it almost brings a smile to my face and when she recovers from her stupor she agrees before giving me certain things to do. My tasks are nothing special, and nothing that requires actual cooking skills. Actually I'm pretty sure her granddaughter is more skilled in the kitchen than I am at this point as she has the tasks of actually cooking different ingredients while I am stuck measuring measly things and pouring them into bowls.

For some reason this ignites something in me and I mentally take it upon myself to become more self-sufficient. I am an adult, and I should be able to cook my own damn meals.

Sae's granddaughter takes her plate into the living room and eats on the floor while entertaining herself as well as Buttercup with a ball of yarn. I find that my time in the kitchen is quickly coming to an end, as the walls seem to be getting closer together and breathing starts to become harder, so I take up my usual spot on the couch and dig in. Sae knows not to expect conversation so when I casually mention that she should check on Haymitch instead of me it seems I've shocked her twice in one day. She agrees to alternate between the two of us, as long as I keep myself fed at nights. She no longer comes in the morning now that I have a fresh loaf of bread every day.

After they leave I find myself on the couch again, not wanting to make the trip up the stairs again to face the nightmares that will surely haunt me when I close my eyes. My eyes flick to the kitchen and I am strangely proud of myself for being able to stay in the room for an extended period of time. For such an extravagant house, there is very little to do so I make my way outside, breathing in the cool summer night air. I sit on an old rocker that my mother brought from our Seam house and gaze out at the front yard. Each Victor's house is grandeur in size and property and my front lawn stretches out for a while before meeting Peeta's at the side. I look longingly at the woods, wondering if I will ever be able to even step foot inside them again before turning my gaze upwards, drinking in the inky night sky dotted with millions of bright stars.

I sit there drinking in the evening air, truly content, for what seems like hours. It truly is a spectacular night and I think about how much Prim would have loved looking at the stars right now. Her name makes my throat constrict and my eyes squeeze shut as images of her burning body flood my mind and I fight not to implode on myself.

This happens constantly and instantaneously, so much so that Dr. Auriellus has instructed me on a way to help myself through it.

_Deep, deep breaths,_ I remind myself. _Focus on right here and right now, use your senses Katniss._ I shakily inhale and exhale as I breathe in the night air. I smell summer, the woods, and the remnants of a bon fire fire, Prim, death.

My breath comes in short gasps as I struggle harder to contain myself. As I take another deep inhale through my nose a scent hits me that calms my body as if it were a dose of morphling. On the breeze I smell the freshly baked bread that is no doubt being baked in the oven next door. It smells hardy and natural and reminds me of the man that created it. As I think of him my breathing slows and I force myself to open my eyes.

Everything is how it was, the night creatures chirping and croaking in the darkness, a warm breeze blowing softly across the yard, the stars and moon illuminating everything, giving it an otherworldly glow to it.

I am finally back to normal and suddenly I want to freeze this moment. Right now, everything seems surreal, it seems almost perfect. Well as perfect as anything could be for me nowadays, and I wish Peeta was here to experience it with me. It's not the first time I am envious of his talent, but right now I wish I could capture how this night looks at this very moment with paints on canvas so I could immortalize its perfection.

I am out of my seat and through his front door before I really know what I am doing. His living room and kitchen are empty and I am about to make the trek upstairs when a warm breeze hits my face from the open back door. I quietly make my way through it and freeze when I see him working on the back porch.

He is studiously working on a canvas, his brows drawn together in concentration and a tiny bit of his tongue peaking between his lips as he meticulously adds tiny detail to the masterpiece in front of him. It is as if he could read my mind and before me sits the exact replica of what lays beyond him. He has captured every color, every movement, every little detail that I never knew could be expressed in paint and I feel as if I have lost the ability to breath at the perfection of it.

"Peeta," I whisper out, afraid talking any louder will break the spell that this night has cast over us.

He startles a little before turning and looking at me. His eyes quickly drop to his lap before turning back to the canvas. He stays silent as he stares at the landscape in front of us.

"It's perfect."

He shakes his head before dropping his brush into a cup of water.

"It's not finished. What are you doing here?"

My cheeks flush and I somehow stutter out how I came over here because I wanted him to paint the night. He stares at me for a long moment before sighing and rubbing a hand down his face.

"I should probably get to bed."

His obvious attempt at shooing me isn't lost on me and I nod. I make my way back inside and after a couple steps I rethink something and turn around and march back outside. He is cleaning up his paint supplies and turns when he hears me come back out.

"Do you want to come for breakfast tomorrow?"

I think that my offer somewhat shocks him because he is silent for a few moments before he smirks.

"You cook?"

I sputter at his response, realizing that no, I do not cook, but that doesn't mean I cant at least try.

"I'll figure out something," I mutter, embarrassed that I didn't have a more well thought out plan like having Sae come cook breakfast for me before I made a fool of myself.

He gives a half smile and agrees to my invite and it's on my short walk home that I realize that I am completely screwed for breakfast tomorrow. I make my way up to bed, rationalizing that I will just worry about it in the morning before drifting off to sleep.

I scream myself awake around 5am and after rinsing off the sweat from my night terrors in the shower I make my way downstairs to figure out just what I was going to cook for Peeta's breakfast.

Two hours later and I am still hopelessly lost as to what to make for breakfast. I cluelessly stared at the contents of my pantries and refrigerator willing some unknown recipe to just pop into my mind and to somehow magically inherit culinary powers, however neither happen and I find myself back at square one. I find some eggs, a block of cheese and some unknown meat and decide that I will just combine the three things and that it will be fine. I've hunted animals, assassinated presidents, and survived two Hunger Games, how hard could cooking some measly little eggs be?

When Peeta walks through the door later the amusement in his eyes is clear as day, and he is gallantly trying not to laugh out loud at the disaster that my kitchen has become. Somehow my simple three ingredient egg mix has turned my kitchen into a battle zone and I stand in the middle of it, no doubt covered in flour from the bag of it that flew off the cabinet shelf and exploded on the countertop when I tried to reach for a spice behind it. There are broken eggs everywhere and whatever creation I had cooked up is burning on the recently turned off stove.

I glare at him as he struggles to keep his amusement to himself and point my spatula at him in warning.

"Not. A. Word."

My threat seems only to egg him on and he brings his hand to his mouth to cover his smile from me as his body shakes in silent laughter. He can no longer contain it when Buttercup hops on the counter and knocks over the bag of remaining flour causing a mini flour explosion at my feet and successfully covering the rest of me in the white powdery substance.

The laugh that escapes Peeta is a full-hearted belly laugh and he guffaws as he doubles over, tears escaping his eyes as his laughter comes out in loud barks. I shoot daggers at him with my eyes as he clutches his sides in mirth, his laughter letting up a little before looking at me again, causing a whole new round of cackling.

I struggle to hold onto my anger at the situation, but I realize what I must look like and it slowly starts to dissipate. Not to mention seeing Peeta this happy floods me with joy, even if it _is_ at my expense, and I finally find humor in the situation and let out a chuckle of my own. This just seems to stir him on and before I know it we are both doubled over, laughter filling my kitchen for the first time in a very long time.

"It's not-" I try to make out in between my chuckles, "It's not funny!"

This just causes him to crack up more and I decide to get even. I scoop up a handful of flour and fling it towards him, nailing him right in the face, making him look like Effie on reaping day with her powdered face. I clap my hand over my mouth and smile, gleefully cackling at the look on his face.

He freezes before reaching up to touch the flower that now covers his head. He looks at his fingers before glaring at me and for a second I fear I might have pushed him into a flashback before I see the plotting smirk he sends my way as he closes in on me.

"Oh so that's how you want to play huh Katniss?"

Quicker than I ever thought imaginable he has a handful of flour and is smashing it into my hair smearing it down the side of my face. I shriek and try to wriggle away and the kitchen fight begins. Our weapon is flour and then eventually eggs as we chase each other around the kitchen, each of us covered head to toe in ingredients. As I'm rounding a corner, planning on taking cover behind the kitchen table, I slip on an egg yolk on the floor and Peeta trips before landing next to me, the egg he had in his hand cracking underneath his chest and splattering his shirt. We are both breathless and laughing and he looks at me sniggering at my appearance before holding his hands up in surrender.

"I give! Truce?"

He holds out his hand to shake and I make the pretense of accepting it before dipping my fingers in the spilt yolk and smearing them across his forehead before falling back on the floor laughing at his surprised face. He lets out a fake roar and grabs me by the waist before pinning my hands over my head and getting me back by smearing some of the yolk stuck to his shirt across my cheek in revenge. I squeal at the slimy substance and he chuckles.

Our breathing slows down and we both realize the position we are currently in with him hovering over me, his lower body pressing into mine, my hands pinned above my head. And suddenly I can't find my breath for a completely different reason. His gaze is conflicted as it flicks from my lips up to my eyes and I find myself leaning up, wanting desperately to feel the warmth of his lips on mine. Our breath is shallow and right before I'm about to seal our fate the voice of our mentor cuts across the room causing Peeta to roll off me as if I were on fire.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Peeta is up, mumbles something about breakfast and is out the door before I can react. Haymitch simply looks at me before smiling a weird little Haymitch smile and leaving my house. I sigh and flop down back into the mess that is my kitchen floor. My fingers trail over my lips and it's not the first time in my life I want to punch Haymitch.

After that thought only one thing is on my mind.

I almost kissed Peeta Mellark, and I _wanted_ it to happen.

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><p>I'm thinking about getting a Beta for this story... anyone interested?<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

_Previously:_

_My fingers trail over my lips and it's not the first time in my life I want to punch Haymitch._

_After that thought only one thing is on my mind._

_I almost kissed Peeta Mellark, and I wanted it to happen._

* * *

><p>After Peeta had fled my house as if it was on fire I spent most of the morning cleaning up the mess we had caused together. It had been one of the first times since returning back to twelve absent my sister and mother that I had actually felt joy. The feeling was foreign to my body, and I realized that the few times I had actually felt <em>something<em> was when I was with Peeta. Even though I was making progress it was so much easier just not to feel. To turn it off, to be blank.

Dealing with my emotions was something that I had never excelled at, even before the chaos of the Games and the Rebellion, and now it was something that I avoided all together. But those few moments with him, it was as if all my walls came crumbling down and actual emotions flooded to the surface.

I still didn't know where I stood with Peeta. He had successfully managed to avoid me until the breakfast fiasco, and even then when he snapped out of whatever daze he was in he reverted back to the cold shell that he was since being home. However there were moments, glorious moments, where his old self would poke back through. The blush that stained his cheeks as we talked about the sunblock and the moment in the kitchen where we almost kissed; both of them were as if nothing had changed him, as if he was still the kind hearted soul that saved my life when I was eleven.

After cleaning up the mess that we had made and taking a shower I meandered outside to sit on my back porch and take in the beautiful day. I forwent sitting in one of the patio chairs and instead found myself lying amongst the fresh grass that was my back yard. The small blades tickled my skin as I stared up at the sky, the blue of it peaking through the green canopy in different spots. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my skin before drifting off to sleep.

When I woke up the sun was setting and a light blanket had been placed over me, shielding my scarred skin from getting burnt by the sun. Confused, I got up grabbed the blanket and headed inside, freezing at the sight in front of me. Peeta was pulling a pan from the oven while various different things steamed and boiled on the stovetop.

He startled as he turned and saw me, almost dropping the pan that I now saw contained a perfectly roasted bird of some kind. My mouth started to water as the aroma of the kitchen hit my nose. He placed the pan on the part of the stove that wasn't being used and turned to face me, throwing the oven mitts onto the counter.

I think he could see the question in my eyes and leaned against the countertop before answering.

"I'm sorry about leaving you to clean up everything this morning. I came over to help and found you asleep in the backyard. Your skin was looking a little red so I covered you up and decided to make dinner as an apology."

I mumbled out a thank you before asking if he needed help with anything. He laughed at my offer and mentioned that last time I tried to cook it didn't turn out so well. He dished out portions of everything onto the already set table and we both sat down and dug into our food. I couldn't contain the moan as the juicy meat melted in my mouth and I ravenously dug into the rest of my plate, stopping only when I saw him staring at me, fork midair on the way to his mouth and a smirk on his lips.

"What?" I glared at him as I shoveled more of the delicious food into my mouth. He smiled and shook his head.

"I was just wondering what Effie would say if she could see you right now?"

I grunted and in a ladylike fashion finished the rest of the meal with my fingers, just to prove a point. We struggled through some small talk, as we finished the meal and when he got up to clear the dishes I insisted that I would do them since he cooked. Neither one of us mentioned the almost kiss and it seemed as if that's the way it would stay. We were good at that, putting on a show and pretending like nothing happened.

It wasn't until after the dishes were done that an awkward silence filled the house. He made to leave and panic flooded me as I realized that I didn't want him to go. I reached out to lightly grab his forearm, which caused him to yelp out in pain and rip his arm out of my grasp. He held it away from me as I tried to coax him to let me see it and after much hassling he reluctantly held his arm out. I gently rolled up the sleeves and gasped as I uncovered the bandage hiding his wound.

The wound was deep, deep enough that my grabbing it had reopened it causing blood to flow from his arm. It was jagged and angry looking and was peppered with other tinier cuts along his arm. I dragged him over to the sink, running cold water over it to clear the blood away and causing him to hiss out in pain.

After gently drying it with a paper towel I told him to hold the towel to the wound and grabbed a first aid kit that Sae had left under my sink in case of emergencies. I dressed the wound and added some butterfly bandages, successfully sealing it up and stopping the bleeding before placing a large gauze pad over it and taping it down. I looked up at him, still holding his arm and gently ran my fingers over the skin next to the bandage.

"When did this happen Peeta?"

The wound was fresh, new, and I definitely would have noticed it this morning when he was dressed in a tshirt and running around my house. His gaze averted from mine and he mumbled something that sounded like 'today' before trying to yank his arm from my grasp. I held him by the elbow and forced him to look at me.

"How?"

He looked ready to throw some lame excuse at me but sighed before spitting out the answer.

"I put my hand through a window. One piece of glass got me good." He gently removed my hand from his elbow before rolling down his sleeve over the bandage. I was instantly flooded with guilt and I looked at my shoes.

"Flashback?"

Only one word was needed to get my question across and his lack of an answer was like a punch to the gut. This was my fault. I had inadvertently caused this wound on his arm. Him seeing me and screwing around in my kitchen had caused a flashback. Maybe it was the almost kiss, seeing me that close had probably brought about altered memories of me tricking him into loving me and he had gone home and snapped.

Tears crept to the forefront of my eyes and I stuttered out an apology.

"I'm sorry… oh God Peeta. I'm so sorry. It's my fault I-"

I couldn't continue my sentence and turned away from him to shield my tears. No matter what I did I couldn't stop hurting this man.

He sighed and his hand came down on my shoulder.

"It's- it's not your fault."

I wiped my tears and turned to him trying to put a smile on my face.

"You do know that I'm the one who is supposed to be a shitty liar right Peeta?"

He let a wisp of a smile cross his face and his hand dropped from my shoulder.

"I can control most of them now. I think that this morning was just a little too much."

I nodded in agreement realizing this was the first time since he had returned that we were actually talking about his problem.

I gulped before asking him a question, wondering if I was pushing my luck.

"How often do they happen?"

His eyes darkened and he clenched his hands at his sides before drawing in a few deep breaths and calming himself back down.

"I don't know… a few times a week I guess. It varies each time."

"Do I trigger all of them?"

He took a deep breath before answering.

"Not all of them." The way that he said it implied that while I might have not been the trigger for every single one that I was the catalyst for most of them.

"I should go Katniss. I'm sorry about everything."

He left out the front door, his sentence left hanging stagnant in the air the implications of his statement leaving me breathless. Emotionally exhausted from our talk I made my way up the stairs to face another sleepless night of demons haunting me from my past.

The following weeks I found myself becoming less of a zombie and more of a self sufficient woman. I managed to only burn a quarter of the meals that I made for myself and eventually Greasy Sae determined that I would be able to function on my own without burning my house down. Her parting words to me were short but cut straight to the point and sparked something in me.

"Good luck Katniss," she said, "I'd love to have some fresh meat sometime if you ever make it back to the woods." And with a quick wink she was gone, back to her home and her own problems, no longer my keeper. Her leaving came with a sense of freedom. I was now my own person, a broken person yes, but my own person nonetheless.

The first time I tried to venture into the woods left me huddled in a ball on the other side of the no longer electrified fence. I managed to implement my method and used my senses to calm myself down enough to drag myself back to my house and up into bed, taking sanctuary there for the next couple of days, only venturing out to eat a little of the bread that was left on my counter every morning.

The second time I attempted to go to the woods was a little better and I managed to make it all the way to mine and Gale's usual hunting spot before images of parachutes dropping onto Capitol children and my sister getting blown to bits flooded my mind and took me over causing me to sprint out of the woods as if I was back in the Games and it was on fire.

After that I avoided that spot all together and managed one day to retrieve my bow and arrows from the hollowed out log. The first time I took aim my hands were shaking so bad I could barely pull the string taught and lost my first arrow deep into the woods, missing my mark on the tree by a mile.

Slowly as the days passed I perfected my shot and one sunny day decided that I would actually go hunting. I silently made my way through the trees, perching myself on a branch and trying to catch my breath. My body was slowly building back the muscle mass it had lost with my deterioration and I wasn't even close to being back in the shape I was in thirteen. I stayed on the branch and breathed in the fresh smell of the forest that I hadn't realized I had missed so much.

A quiet scurrying alerted me and I took aim at the rabbit below me. I let my arrow fly and let out a whoop as it struck it. Granted it wasn't through the eye but it was a kill nonetheless. Hopping down from the branch I collected my kill and decided that this was good progress and not to push my luck before heading back to Victor's Village.

It seemed like I had a little hop in my step as I pushed open my door and cleaned and cooked my kill.

This routine continued for a couple of days and I managed to bring down a few rabbits, a couple wild birds as well as a wild dog, which I gave to Sae free of charge. The first time I downed a squirrel I debated what to do with it. It wasn't my favorite meat, but I knew of a couple people who loved it. It was a clean shot, right between the eyes and when I returned to Victor's Village I veered right, instead of the left I normally took to get to my house.

I walked into his house, expecting him to either be in the kitchen or painting out back. I left the squirrel on the counter and debated if I should seek him out or simply just leave it as he does with the bread every morning.

It must have been my lingering endorphins from finally hunting but I desperately wanted to see him and the approval on his face at my new improvement. I searched all downstairs and when coming up unsuccessful I ventured upstairs. He wasn't in his room and after checking the rest of the rooms I opened the last door only to freeze in my tracks.

His art studio was covered with canvases and paints, each canvas depicted a vividly detailed picture, most of which were of terrible things that had happened to us. Pictures of Finnick, Rue, Boggs, and Peeta's family in different stages of dying stared back at me. Their eyes wide in horror as they took their last breaths. There were also pictures of me, or at least I thought was me. I was a mutt, my fingers morphed into claws and my teeth elongated into fangs. My cold grey eyes stared evilly back at me from the canvas as blood dripped from my teeth. There were others similar to this, and in each one I was evil reincarnated.

I choked back a sob at them as any hope I had previously possessed bled out of me. This was how Peeta saw me, as a mutt, a killer, a demon.

There was a large painting on an easel in the middle of the room, a white sheet thrown over it, taunting me with what laid underneath it.

I knew I shouldn't be in here, it was an invasion of Peeta's personal space, of his darkest thoughts, and I was an intruder. But something about this covered canvas drew me to it like a moth to the flame and I slowly approached it as if it would attack. My fingers came up to grip the soft sheet and with a simple pull I had revealed a Peeta Mellark masterpiece.

It was a picture of me, on that day that he had cooked dinner for me. I was asleep underneath the trees, rays of sun splashing across my body giving it an otherworldly glow as if it were aflame. Although my eyes were closed, a small smile graced my face and I looked completely content. For the first time since the games I felt beautiful and I stared transfixed at the painting before me.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

I started at his voice, shocked that he had been able to sneak up on me. I blushed and stuttered out an apology at being caught in his private room. He stormed past me and threw the sheet over the painting, once again hiding it from my eyesight. He turned to face me and I could clearly see the annoyance in his eyes at finding me here. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Is that really how you see me Peeta?"

His voice was cold and clipped as he forewent answering my question.

"What do you want Katniss?"

"I, uh, caught a squirrel today…when I was hunting."

He stared at me, expecting me to finish my explanation on how I came to be here.

"I figured I would bring it over for you. You know since I know you like them so much. I, um, I wanted to give it to you in person, but, uh, I couldn't find you?"

The end came out like a question and caused him to huff and turn on his heel before stomping downstairs. I timidly followed and shut his studio door behind me, finding him staring down the squirrel in the kitchen.

"I can clean it if you want."

"It's fine. I can do it."

He stood stoically not saying a word, clearly put out by my presence.

"Um. Well okay I'll just go then. See ya later."

His reaction to the squirrel wasn't one that I had been hoping for but I simply sighed and walked to the front door. My hand touched the doorknob just as I heard his voice call out from the kitchen.

"Katniss!"

I turned to look at him, he almost looked shy as he looked at me.

"Thank you."

I smiled a little at him.

"You're welcome."

* * *

><p>AN: So this chapter was originally way to long so the second part of it will be up soon. A big shout out to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favorited! You are all the best! Thank you for all the support with this story it means the world. Happy Hunger Games!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I normally don't do these at the beginning of chapters as to not interrupt the flow of the story but this seemed like something important to point out.

Keep in mind, both Katniss and Peeta are severely scarred. You don't go through all they did and come out just fine and dandy. Peeta still has extreme side effects from the tracker jacker venom and right now isn't the Peeta that we (as well as Katniss) all know and love. He is in a dark place and is at war with himself every day.

With that thought in mind, I sincerely hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

><p><em>Previously<em>:

_He stood stoically not saying a word, clearly put out by my presence._

_"Um. Well okay I'll just go then. See ya later."_

_His reaction to the squirrel wasn't one that I had been hoping for but I simply sighed and walked to the front door. My hand touched the doorknob just as I heard his voice call out from the kitchen._

_"Katniss!"_

_I turned to look at him, he almost looked shy as he looked at me._

_"Thank you."_

_I smiled a little at him._

_"You're welcome."_

* * *

><p>Dr. Aurelius had been pleasantly surprised with my rapid improvement and he had concluded that our phone sessions were only needed now once every 2 weeks. I still had episodes, fits of depression or anxiety attacks that left me in bed for days. However ill fitting they were, they never were a threat to my physical health. I managed to keep myself alive without help or force-feeding from others.<p>

Peeta and I saw each other in passing. I would be in the garden, ensuring the plants got enough water in this desolate heat we were having, and he would leave his house to do god knows what in town. Occasionally there would be a passing 'hello' exchanged but normally we simply acknowledged each other with a simple nod.

Although I was proud of my progress I had still yet to travel into town. Victor's Village had been spared in the firebombing of District 12, but the rest of the district had been blown to smithereens. I worried that traveling into the decimated town would catapult me into a particularly nasty bout of anxiety and depression, but I think deep down I know the real reason I didn't ever travel there.

I was a coward.

I was the sole reason that the district had been obliterated. I personally had the hundreds of deaths of the merchant class and seam families on my hands. If it hadn't been for me then they would still be alive, their houses would still be intact, families together.

I was a coward.

Too scared to face the destruction that my existence caused.

Too scared to see the faces of the few survivors, too cowardly to see their hollow gazes as they stared at the girl that had started it all.

And so I had avoided town at all costs, until today.

I had received word that a package had been delivered to me and was being held at the train station, one of the few structures that had managed to survive the blasts. Normally, Sae had brought the few pieces of mail addressed to me to my house, but now that she was no longer taking care of me I had to man up and go pick up my package.

For once I desperately wished for it to be winter, allowing me to hide under a thick hooded coat. However the heat of the summer bore down, leaving me departing Victor's Village in a tshirt and shorts, my scars visible to anyone who cared to look.

The closer I got to town the tighter my chest became.

I could do this… I had to.

When I reached the first building I had to will myself to look up, and my heart seized. There were a few buildings in the beginning stages of construction, as well as a few that looked to be complete, however the majority of them were burnt out skeletons, their final resting place only visible by the brick chimneys that survived the fire.

I was used to the grey film that normally covered the town, however this grey was not from coal dust but rather the ash of the inferno that had torn so many people's lives apart. It laid thick in the chassis of the buildings, burnt out shells haunting me as I made my way towards the center of town.

The first person I saw stopped what they were doing and stared at me in shock as I passed them by. I ducked my head, but it was no use, being the face of a rebellion came with many downfalls. I could hear the gossiping whispers of the few people who had ventured back from 13 to help with the rebuilding process.

I took deep breaths and focused on my path to the train station. After signing my name and collecting the small box I turned on my heel hurrying to get back to my house and away from the backlash of my rebellion in the Quell. Quickly looking at the return address I realized that these were some supplies that Dr. Aurelius had sent me for my garden. I scurried back into what used to be the town square, the very place that Gale had almost been whipped to death, and stopped dead as I saw the structure before me.

The building was simple, as its predecessor had been. The front door of it was wide open and the smell of the delicacies inside wafted out into the square, drawing in customers with its heavenly aroma. If I hadn't known that it had been decimated in the bombing I would have thought that the building had possibly been spared. However, this bakery projected a warm, welcoming atmosphere that its former hadn't. The front had a large welcoming window, displaying a variety of different foods and pastries, as well as an occasional meticulously decorated cake.

I was drawn to it like a moth to the flame as I took each step closer to it. The outside was painted a light orange, a nice splash of color in the otherwise dreary looking town, and 'Mellark's' was painted above the display window in perfect print. I could see that the inside was bustling with people, patrons flowing in and out of the door at a steady pace.

I stood outside, looking every bit the crazy person I was, as I watched through the glass as he worked behind the counter. He handled customers with an ease he always possessed, smiling and occasionally laughing at something someone would say. He gave out treats and cookies to any child that walked through the doors and I could see the joy in his eyes as they enjoyed a treat even he couldn't afford to indulge in as a child.

I don't know how long I just stood there, hand pressed against the glass as I watched him flit about his bakery but eventually he must have felt my gaze on him because his eyes flicked mine and widened slightly at the sight of me outside of my comfort zone that was Victor's Village. He held my gaze for a moment before offering me a smile and turning back to the customer he was helping. I don't know what possessed me to do it, perhaps it was the fact that Peeta had actually rebuilt his family business, perhaps it was the smile, but I walked through the open door and into the new building.

After finishing with his customer he looked up at me before calling to someone in the back to take over and coming around the counter to greet me.

I see Greasy Sae come out front to the counter and send her a glare at the fact that she has been keeping her new employment from me. She simply winks before helping the next person to some of her soup, which apparently was being served here as well. Peeta leaned casually against the end of the counter, simply looking at me.

"Katniss. What can I do for you?"

Yet again I found myself stuttering over words.

"I didn't…I didn't know you reopened it."

His eyes flashed dangerously before returning to normal.

"Well _someone_ had to feed the rebuilders."

The way he says it floods me with guilt. I hadn't been the only person to lose someone that I loved and these people—people who had lost family because of _me_—deserved to be taken care of. Of course _Peeta_ was doing the right thing.

It suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks how selfish I had become. Sure, district 12 had been poverty stricken, but it had been called home by hundreds of families, and now they were returning with nothing to their names, void of family members that didn't escape the fire that engulfed the town, and what was I doing? Holding up in my house and getting excited that I caught a freaking squirrel? I was pathetic.

Just look at Peeta for god's sake. He had gone through hell and back, and still he was putting others first. He had lost his entire family in the destruction of 12, not just a sibling. He had his heart ripped out by yours truly, he had been hijacked and tortured in the Capitol, beaten within an inch of his life, and yet he still managed to build, open and operate a god damn business. He was helping these people, because that is what Peeta did. That was the person he was.

It struck me that I could be doing so much more and I felt angry and disappointed at myself for living in my own bubble of self-pity.

I realized that I hadn't answered his original question and came up with an idea as I straightened my shoulders while looking him in the eye.

"I came for a job."

The shock was evident on his face, clearly this was the last thing he was expecting from me.

"A job?"

"Yes Peeta. A job working at your bakery."

Peeta unnervingly stared at me for a good minute before a smile broke out on his face and he shook his head in amusement.

"Katniss. You can't _bake_."

Shit.

"Fine. Well then give me a job doing something else. I want to help."

He chuckled again before lightly grabbing me by the shoulder and leading me to a familiar looking broad shouldered man that stood waiting for his order. He shook hands with the man before turning to me.

"Katniss, meet Thom. He is head of building projects. Thom, this is Katniss. She wants to help out anyway she can. Think you could find a job for her?"

"Oh I'm sure we could find something for the lady."

I snorted at his use of the word to describe me.

"We're gonna need some help building the new town hall. You know anything about construction?"

"No. I did have to fix up a few leaks in the roof of our old house though if that counts for anything."

"Well its better than nothin. Can you be here tomorrow? 8am sound good? We always meet here for breakfast before the start of the day."

"Sounds great. See you here."

The walk home had me shaking my head. What the hell had I just gotten myself into? I was about as sociable as a stick, not to mention the fact that I was not anywhere close to in shape, and here I was volunteering for a job working with a bunch of people and doing a ton of heavy lifting. I must have been crazy.

Even though it wasn't our scheduled time I called Dr. Aurelius and told him about this recent development. As always he managed to see the positive side to my actions and predicted that this would be good for me. It was a new beginning in my life, and a break from the same hermit-esque routine I had developed.

He told me that the people I would be working with would be thrilled to have me amongst their midst, after all that I had done for them. He also mentioned that it might feel nice to help out other people, you know… since I was a selfish bitch and all that.

The first day on the job had been exhausting, both mentally and physically. I realized how much muscle mass I had let deplete and I found some of the easier tasks of lifting things like bricks and small wooden beams a constant struggle. Most of my fellow workers gave me a wide berth, probably thinking that I was the girl who went crazy and shot the wrong president.

When I woke up with sore muscles the next morning it was strangely satisfying and as the weeks went on I took pride in the muscle that I was building and the new friendships I was forming.

The first couple of weeks on the job I stayed to myself, however I think that once most of my fellow workers decided that I wasn't going to randomly snap and put an arrow through their eye they opened up more. I found myself mostly listening, letting them talk as I found out about their lives. Most of them had lost at least one person in the blast and I felt the guilt swarm me as they told stories of the ones they had lost.

It wasn't until the summer had turned to fall and the leaves had started to float to the ground that Thom said something to me that I would never forget.

"They don't blame you ya know."

I looked at him questioningly.

"For what happened here. I can see it in your eyes whenever they talk about who they lost. They don't blame you Katniss, you are a hero to them. The reason they talk about them is to honor their memory, to never forget who they were. That life we were livin before your little rebellion… that life wasn't even worth livin Kat. You just remember that."

Thom's words struck something deep inside of me and when I got back to my house I pulled out my father's old plant book and started to write. I wrote about everything from the mine explosion that killed my father all the way up to explosion that killed my sister and eventually my part in rebuilding 12. I wrote throughout the night, needing to get it all down on paper before my courage left me.

The first rays of the sun were peaking through my windows when I finally put the book down. I had written so much, but there was still more that needed to be told, still more people that couldn't be forgotten. And so as I climbed into bed to sleep away my one day off I decided that I would start a book, so no one in the future would forget the people in the past that made it possible for them.

My words could only do people like Finnick and Prim some justice and I decided to ask for help from Peeta. He surprisingly agreed and it became like our own personal brand of therapy. Some nights we would sit in total silence, me writing, him sketching different entries and faces for the book. Other nights he would randomly spout out questions, asking if certain events were real or not real and I would answer to the best of my ability.

I continued to work in town and the town hall was almost finished by the time the ground froze and we had to stop construction. Our book had become thick with memories, and even Haymitch would come over from time to time, adding the people from his games as well as all the friends he lost and the family that had been taken from him by the Capitol.

It was the first snow of the winter and Peeta was sketching away on my couch as I aimlessly wrote about Cinna and his masterpieces. The question came out of nowhere and stunned me to silence.

"You actually loved me. Real or not real?"

My pen came to a screeching halt as I comprehended the question. Had I loved Peeta? Yes, I had, but had I been in love with him? If he had asked me this question in the midst of the rebellion my answer would have been an easy 'no'. I was convinced that I couldn't love. I wouldn't love, not after what happened to my mother after the death of my father. But I had been stupid, naïve, and young, and I don't think _I_ even truly understood what my feelings toward the boy with the bread were.

But looking back now, it's easy to see.

"At first it wasn't real. But then it changed so… yes, real."

I manage to whisper out my response, but he still hears it over the dim roar of the wind and snow outside.

"You still love me. Real or not real?"

I flushed with anger at his question.

"What does it even matter Peeta!"

Of course I loved him, it was impossible not to after everything. But just because I loved him didn't mean that I was healed, or ready to acknowledge what that meant for us. I had missed Peeta so much, our nightly book sessions the highlight of my days. I felt empty without him, but none of it mattered anymore. To him I was just a mutt, a nuisance that he had to put up with simply because I lived next door and the whole world once believed we were madly in love.

"Answer the question Katniss."

"No!"

"No you don't? Or no you wont answer the question?"

"I wont answer the question. It makes no difference."

His eyes flashed with anger, darkening as his jaw clenched.

"I can handle it Katniss. I'm a big boy. Why don't you just tell me the truth for once."

His words were like a slap to the face. I sighed and averted my gaze to the floor.

"It doesn't matter Peeta," my voice was defeated. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me!" He jumped up from his seat, his pencils scattering as he started pacing.

"Do you have any idea what its like? It's like I have these two voices inside of my head, one wants to kill you and one wants to love you and I- I'm just so fucking confused! Sometimes I'm fine, and then others- I…I just want to know if these feelings I had were once real, or if they are just more bullshit forced into my brain by the Capitol."

He took a deep breath before looking me in the eye.

"Do you still love me Katniss?"

I could do nothing but nod my head in response and within a flash he was in front of me, leaning over me so his hands trapped me into the lounge chair I was inhabiting.

"I need to hear you say it!"

His eyes were flashing back and forth between light and dark blue, conflicted as they searched desperately in mine.

"Y-yes Peeta. I love you."

The words had barely left my mouth when his lips came crashing down on mine. A guttural moan made its way from his mouth into mine and one of his hands fisted the back of my head, bringing it closer to his burning lips. I moaned as his tongue dominated my mouth, twisting and twirling around mine in a way that made my toes curl. My hands came up to his broad shoulders and I held on for dear life as he plundered my mouth.

Without breaking contact he yanked me out of my seat and pressed me hard against the full length of his body. His one hand stayed rooted in my hair while the other caressed its way down my body to my hip, pulling me even closer to him. His arousal pulsed against my stomach and I pulled away from his mouth releasing a gasp at the feel of him. Want flooded my veins as I pulled his mouth back to mine and dove my hands into the hair at the back of his neck, tugging it a little and causing a growl to escape his mouth.

This was so vastly different than our previously shared kisses. Even the ones in the cave and on the beach in the Quell, which had sparked that unknown hunger in the pit of my belly, paled in comparison to the one we were sharing now. The hunger was a throbbing ache, a need, a desperate want that aroused and confused me. This was nothing like the gentle kisses I was used to from Peeta. It was demanding and claiming, a fire coursing through both of us that I had absolutely no desire to put out.

Just when I was thinking about the fastest way to rid him of his shirt he wrenched his mouth away from mine and stepped back away from my body as if he had been shocked. I was left panting, my body humming in want as I looked at him. He shook his head, his eyes dark, before he turned and walked out the door into the snow, leaving me alone and frustrated.

I awoke the next morning to find a surprisingly sober Haymitch in my kitchen.

"So what did you do to him this time sweetheart?"

"What are you talking about?"

"That boy came over last night in the middle of a blizzard, didn't say a word to me, and downed a bottle of my liquor, before stumbling himself home."

"What! Did you see if he got home okay?"

"What do I look like? The kid's keeper?"

I glared at my ex mentor.

"How could you just let him walk home drunk in a blizzard? What the hell Haymitch?"

"Well if you're so concerned why don't you just go check on him yourself?"

I was fuming as I slammed the door to Haymitch's house before crossing the snowy lawn to Peeta's.

I opened the door and was surprised to find no movement downstairs. I eventually found him sound asleep in his bed and stared at him for a bit. The soft morning sun illuminated his golden hair and his boyish features came out while he slept. One arm was flung over his head and the other was somewhere beneath the blankets. He had an innocence about him when he slept and if it weren't for the scars peaking out from under his shirt I would have thought that none of the terrors he had gone through were actually real.

I fought back the urge to brush away a stray lock of unruly hair that had fallen in front of his eyes and wondered if this is what it was like for Peeta when he was harboring feelings for me. To desperately crave the warmth of someone while not knowing if your feelings were reciprocated was the cruelest torture anyone could go through, and for once I finally knew how he felt for all those years.

I still didn't know how to process last nights events and decided him storming out of my house was his oh so subtle way of letting me know he needed space. My mind was eased at the fact he got home unharmed and I went into his kitchen to leave something for him to eat for when he finally rose from the dead sleep he was in. I had gotten significantly better in the kitchen and cooked up a banana bread recipe that I had found in one of his books. I left the warm pan on the stove for him and left, trudging back through the snow to my house.

Since construction was almost complete and we couldn't do anything more with the snow on the ground I was currently out of a job. The lack of noise coming from Haymitch's house was unnerving and I realized that none of the annoying geese that normally were squawking around his yard were around. Venturing over to his house I opened the front door and let out a loud bark of laughter.

Haymitch was sprawled out on his floor, the geese asleep in a circle around him as he snored. I kicked his foot, causing him to jerk awake and slash the air with his knife. I chuckled in amusement as the geese honked and scattered around the house, some of them relieving themselves on him and his hard wood floor.

"Nice setup you got going on here Haymitch."

He grumbled before sheathing his knife and kicking the goose that hadn't been smart enough to get away from him as he struggled to stand.

"I'm no goose expert, but aren't they supposed to live outside?"

"I couldn't just leave them out in the snow now could I sweetheart?"

"Why don't you just build a coop for them, with like a little overhang or something."

He flopped onto his disgusting couch before swigging from a bottle and gesturing his hand out.

"Be my guest."

I don't know why I bothered to help him, but the next day I found myself in town, purchasing the necessary supplies before piling them onto a cart-like wheelbarrow and wheeling them back to my house. Since it was still freezing out I started construction on the goose pen-coop-thing inside so it could be brought outside in pieces and then assembled. The project took me a couple of days and within a week the snow had melted enough that I was able to assemble the pen outside of Haymitch's house and managed to wrangle the geese into it.

I got a grunt in thanks from my former mentor and worked out a system with Hazelle Hawthorne to come and clean his house every couple of days for some compensation. The conditions he was living in really were disgusting, but I guess as someone who forewent showers for weeks at a time after my return to 12, I couldn't really judge.

I had yet to continue working on the memory book, the act of doing it without Peeta there seemed wrong at this point. I had yet to see him since our kiss a week ago and he seemed to be going through extra lengths to avoid me, making sure he was out of the house before I awoke and no longer leaving bread on my counter in the mornings.

I found myself growing restless without any jobs to do. All the people in town had settled down for a long winter in their newly constructed homes and no other construction projects were scheduled to start until spring when the ground thawed. Hunting was satisfactory at best and I usually found myself trying to circulate blood through my frozen limbs more than I did actually shooting game.

It has been a week since the kiss and I am too restless to just sit and do nothing. I throw on a coat and head in the direction of the town. I know he wanted space but I'm tired of not having Peeta in my life and I need some sort of interaction with him. Honestly I am a little bit hurt at the fact that he just up and left after kissing me and then avoided me for a week. I find myself standing in front of the bakery as snowflakes start to fall around me.

I take a deep breath and push through the glass door that leads into the storefront. It is a fairly quite day and most people have foregone braving the snow for some freshly baked treats. After helping the only other person in the room he looks up and his eyes narrow a little at me before wishing the customer a good day and turning his back to me as he reaches for something on a shelf.

"What do you want Katniss?"

We are the only two people in the store now and he busies himself with rearranging the pastries in the display cabinet to avoid having to look at me.

"I could ask you the same thing Peeta."

His shoulders tense and his steely blue gaze meets mine over the countertop.

"Why are you here?"

"Why did you leave?"

I don't intend for my voice to come out as desperate and pathetic as it does and it cracks on the last word. He doesn't answer me and I hold his gaze.

"Why did you even kiss me if you were just going to leave and then avoid me and act like nothing happened! How is that fair Peeta?"

He scoffs and his eyes darken to the color of the sky right before a storm.

"How is that fair? Why don't you tell me something Katniss. Do you think it was _fair_ of you to use me and my love for you as part of a game? Do you think it was _fair _that after all the lies you fed to me in the games you ignored me when we got back home? Is it _fair_ that while I was being tortured in the Capitol, trying with all my might to hold onto my love for you that you were cozying up with Gale and playing happy family in 13? Was it _fair_ that after everything… fucking everything that I did for you that you couldn't even afford me a precious moment of your time while I was trying to recover from being fucking tortured and having my memories fucked with in the Capitol?"

He is yelling by the end and I feel as if I've been punched in the gut, but he continues before I can say anything.

"So excuse me if I needed a little god damn space to sort out all these fucking thoughts in my head which, by the way, are all about you! I told you what it was like Katniss! It doesn't just change overnight just because we shared some meaningless kiss. I'm torn, and it physically hurts my body when I'm battling myself. Because even though I want to love you, and trust me I really, really do… part of me, a deep dark part of me, still wants to kill you. And until I figure out just what the hell I'm going to do with that part I don't think I can be around you."

This time it is me that leaves, running through the snow, the tears that leave my eyes freezing as the last bit of my hope for the boy with the bread leaves with them.

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><p>AN: A shout out to all my followers/ reviewers/ and those who made this story a favorite. I would LOVE to hear what you thought on this chapter. Reviews are very nice kicks in the ass to get myself writing more... *wink*wink


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm not a fan of authors notes but I feel this must be done.

First of all I am absolutely overwhelmed and extremely humbled by everyone's response to my little story, it truly is unbelievable how supportive you all have been. Which brings me to point number 2. I will never ever publish something that I am not completely satisfied with, hence the wait on this chapter. I find that if I give myself deadlines or push myself fast and I am lacking creativity then I am ultimately not happy with my work and you all deserve better than that. Therefore it may be a day or a month between my updates, it all depends on my writing creativity. I will not be giving up on this story by any means and I appreciate everyone's support.

Also a great round of applause to my new Beta Amieko! Thank her for putting up with my horrendous spelling and punctuation.

* * *

><p><em>Previously: <em>

_"So excuse me if I needed a little god damn space to sort out all these fucking thoughts in my head which, by the way, are all about you! I told you what it was like Katniss! It doesn't just change overnight just because we shared some meaningless kiss. I'm torn, and it physically hurts my body when I'm battling myself. Because even though I want to love you, and trust me I really, really do… part of me, a deep dark part of me, still wants to kill you. And until I figure out just what the hell I'm going to do with that part I don't think I can be around you."_

_ This time it is me that leaves, running through the snow, the tears that leave my eyes freezing as the last bit of my hope for the boy with the bread leaves with them._

* * *

><p>Any progress that I had previous prided myself on making leaves me in one colossal swoop, and in the blink of an eye I am back to being the pathetic girl that I was after the rebellion. However, this time there is no one to check on my progress and I am a little grateful that no one can see the state of catatonia that I've slipped back into. I am once again a pitiful excuse for a human spending my days curled up in the same spot I had once inhabited on the couch.<p>

His words play like a mantra, over and over again, each time slicing me open even more.

_Do you think it was fair of you to use me and my love for you as part of a game?_

Each word is like one of Clove's perfectly sharpened knives, cutting me open bit by bit.

_It doesn't just change overnight just because we shared some meaningless kiss._

During these last bitter months of winter I contemplate how on earth Peeta managed to put up with my heartlessness over the course of the games and rebellion. If this was how he felt after the countless times that I broke his fragile heart then I deserve every ounce of pain I am feeling now.

What goes around comes around.

I barely manage to survive and force myself to eat at least once a day. Much to his dismay, all of Dr. Aurelius' phone calls now go ignored, and I vaguely wonder how long it will be until he sends someone looking. I have never been more ashamed of myself than I am in the weeks following our exchange of words and I find myself becoming the one person I swore I would never turn into… my mother.

I awake one afternoon to find Haymitch sitting in the rocker by the couch. His gaze is full of pity, and I close my eyes and roll away from him. I hear him sigh and feel the side of the couch dip as he sits on the edge. His hand pulls my shoulder so I roll and face him. I squeeze my eyes shut unable to handle the pitiful gaze of my ex mentor.

"Sweetheart," he sighs in exasperation.

I squeeze my eyes tighter and shake my head like a child, refusing to look at him and see the condolence in his gaze.

"Katniss, please."

I'm not sure if it's the fact that he actually called me by my real name, or the sheer compassion I can hear in his voice, but I open my eyes and as soon as I meet his gaze the damn breaks. Tears are streaming down my face in waterfalls as my heart constricts in my chest as I allow myself to really truly cry in front of someone for the first time in years.

I cry for Prim, and for my father, and for the hundreds of others that lost their lives because of me. I cry for Haymitch's lost family, and Peeta's loss of innocence. I sob when my mind replays the conversation we had, and my heart shatters into a million pieces as I accept the fact that we will never return to normal. Peeta will probably never love me the way he once did.

Haymitch pulls me into his chest, consoling me as he would a small child, and at the moment that's exactly how I feel. I was forced to grow up so fast that I missed out on moments like this with my parents and a part of me relishes in the comfort it brings to me.

He rubs my back as I sob into his shirt and makes comforting noises as I hiccup and snot runs out of my nose.

"I know sweetheart. I know."

He holds me until I exhaust myself into a dreamless sleep and I awake to find a tray of breakfast on the coffee table, which I greedily inhale. I venture out of bed getting into the shower, scrubbing away the dried tears on my face before getting dressed, and finding a sober Haymitch at my kitchen table.

I sit down and thank him for the breakfast as he takes a sip of his coffee. We sit in silence and I pick at a splinter on the wooden table waiting him to break the awkward stillness of the house.

"He still loves you, ya know."

My finger halts its picking at his words. I stare at a stain on the wood and shake my head.

"He thinks I'm a mutt."

"Sometimes."

His conformation sucks the remainder of whatever hope I had been clinging to out of me and I pick at the skin of my cuticles.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself Katniss."

I don't respond and continue to pick at the white skin surrounding my nails, wincing when it pulls a little too deep and a trickle of blood comes to the surface. Haymitch's hand slams down on the table causing me to jump in my seat, startled by his outburst.

"Damit Katniss!" He sighs and looks at me, "You have to live. That's what they would want. That's what _he_ wants."

"Oh and is that what you've been doing? Living by drowning yourself in a bottle."

I snap at him, my anger flaring as his words hit home. He ignored my outburst and continued.

"You survived for a reason. Don't let everyone's sacrifices be in vain. Prim would have wanted you to live, to be happy, to _love_."

My eyes sting and I shake my head before pulling on my cuticle so hard that there is a steady flow of blood now.

"I can't Haymitch. He doesn't… he can't…"

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying? Sure, he's pretty messed up, but that doesn't mean he doesn't remember anything! That boy has gone through hell and back for you. He has played your games and followed you into two arenas. I think it's about time you start returning the favor!"

His voice drops as he controls himself.

"But that's not why I'm here. This… what you're doing right now, what you did after the rebellion, it isn't healthy. And I know damn well that I'm the last person that should be giving advice on personal health but lets face it, besides you kids I don't have much to live for. But you, you have so much life ahead of you. Remember why you fought, not only so the people you loved could have a better life, but so you could have a better life! _You_ Katniss!"

Haymitche sighs and drums his fingers on the table as he lets his words sink in.

"You need to stop living for other people. You lived for prim and when she died it nearly destroyed you. Now you're living solely because of Peeta and it's doing the same thing."

With that departing thought he is up and out of the door, leaving his advice in the air for me to take or throw away.

Two months after Haymitch's so called 'pep talk,' Thom stops by to let me know that we will be starting up construction again on Monday and to meet at the bakery as usual. My heart goes a million miles a minute at the thought of seeing him and the week flies by faster than usual.

My months alone have been filled with ups and downs, Haymitch seeing me through most of them. As much as I was unwilling to admit it, the old drunk is really a decent human being. I am starting to see him as a sort of father figure in replacement for the one I lost at a young age.

Monday morning has me trembling outside of the bakery. There is still a chill in the air as the last of winter tries desperately to hold on. I pull my coat tighter around my shoulders and stare at the door handle as if it is going to jump off and bite me.

I haven't seen Peeta in two months, not since our argument in this very building that had me running through the snow, sobbing at his truthful words. It always seems that with us its one step forward followed by two giant steps backward.

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders before pushing through the door and into the warmth of the bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread hits me and I regardless of our situation I cant help the small smile that appears.

"Katniss!"

The loud shouting of my name has my head whipping up as I see the group of workers that I have grown close with all smiling and waving at me, with cups of coffee and freshly baked goods in their hands. I smile back and make my way over to them before being engulfed in a bear hug by Thom. We all exchange greetings and I truly am happy to be back in the presence of these people.

I quickly glance at the counter and equal parts relief and disappointment come over me when I only see Sae working. Peeta nowhere to be found.

"He doesn't work Mondays," Thom tells me.

He lays his hand on mine and gives it a gentle squeeze before turning back to the group. I blush to the roots of my hair, upset with myself that I am that obvious. I grab some sort of pastry from Sae and scarf it down as we walk to the almost complete Justice Building.

We get to work right away and work the day away, breaking only to eat a quick lunch and I am satisfied with my work at the end of the day. I am sweating and my arms will surely be sore tomorrow but I have that same content feeling that I had after my first day on the job many months ago.

I walk home at the end of the day and the sweat on my brow chills me as it comes in contact with the crisp air. I am exhausted when I arrive home and barely have enough energy to eat and shower before I am face planting into my bed for a good nights sleep.

The next morning I am up with the sun and my body protests as I roll out of bed, sore from my first day of work. I make my way to the bakery and walk inside, distractingly looking at a hole that appeared on one of my sleeves and not paying the slightest attention to where I am going. My body hits a hard wall and I go flying back, landing gracefully on my ass and looking up shocked.

My grey eyes lock onto a steely blue pair. Suddenly I can't draw breath into my lungs as we are caught in each other's gazes, two deer in the proverbial headlights. I am still sitting on the ground and an ache is forming in my tailbone from the fall to the hard floor, I realize that I had ran into Peeta, his unyielding body causing me to end up on the floor.

"Way to go Mellark! Help the poor girl up."

A large hand landing on his shoulder breaks our gaze and Thom is chuckling at us. Peeta blushes and reaches his hand out to help me up, avoiding my gaze the whole time. I brush off my backside and try to catch his eye again but am unsuccessful.

"Jeeze Peeta, you sure have a way with the ladies dontcha? Is that how you win em over, knock em on their ass?"

Peeta turns beet red and mumbles out an apology to me before turning around.

"No!"

My shout is uncalled for and loud enough to silence the rest of the occupants of the bakery. The color of my face matches Peeta's as all eyes turn to me, curious as to my unnecessary outburst.

"I uh- I mean it wasn't his fault. I walked into him."

The background chatter resumes and Thom chuckles before pulling me to his side.

"No need to get into a fuss about it Kat. I was just playing with the kid."

Peeta nods and turns his back to me before making his way back behind the counter. Thom drags me over to the table where everyone else is eating their breakfast and starts chattering away with the group, however my gaze stays trained on Peeta. I watch as he flits about, helping customers and loading baking trays with all sorts of delectable goodies. He must feel my gaze on him but does a particularly great job at avoiding it until we have to leave to start our workday.

This pattern continues for a week and before I know it, the final day of construction of the new Justice Building has arrived. There will be more projects for me to do after this, but a feeling of pride sweeps over me as I take in one of my first major accomplishments since returning to 12.

We watch as the final nails are pounded into the golden letters that mark the building and shine in the sunlight.

The words Town Hall are finally finished and the construction team cheers as we all proudly take in the aftermath of all our hard work. We are let off work early and are able to enjoy the rest of the day to ourselves before we start construction of a new building tomorrow. On my walk home I decide that I have earned a treat from the bakery and it just so happens that it's Monday and Peeta doesn't work Mondays.

However imagine my surprise when I walk in and find him standing behind the counter. The shop is empty besides the two of us and it would just be childish of me to turn around and leave so I square my shoulders and approach the counter. He looks just as surprised to see me as I do him and we wordlessly stare at each other, each of us willing the other to break the awkward silence.

He finally breaks it by clearing his throat and avoiding my gaze.

"Uh. What can I do for you today?"

My heart tears a little at the obvious formality that he is using with me, as if I am no more than a paid customer.

"Um… I was looking for something sweet. We, um, finished construction today so…" I trail off awkwardly and look at him. Amusement glances in his eyes and he shakes his head with a little smile.

"Katniss, this is a bakery. Everything here is sweet."

I blush and he chuckles, the sound sending tremors through my body.

"Oh."

"I'll tell you what I have just the thing."

He disappears into the back for a second and I hear the beeping of a machine before he comes out with a plate topped with some sort of dark bloblike cake. He pulls out a fork and sets it on the counter. Some steam raises from it and he hands me the utensil.

"Go ahead, try it."

I look at the blob skeptically, although part of me knows that if Peeta had any hand in making it then it will be delicious.

"What is it?"

He rolls his eyes and pushes the fork at me.

"Just try it Katniss. I promise you'll like it."

I take the fork and slice into the spongy dark cake, I am surprised when a dark liquid comes from within the center and coats the cake on my fork. I bring it up to my mouth and let out a guttural moan at the absolute heaven that is invading my taste buds. I close my eyes and suck every last piece from the utensil in my mouth before diving back in for more. I seem to forget where I am while I divulge myself in this heavenly treat before me and a deep chuckle brings me out of my chocolate induced fantasy.

Peeta's eyes are alight with amusement as he watches me and my face burns as I realize what I must look like. I finish off the rest of the cake and scrape my fork along the bottom of the plate to make sure no drop goes untasted.

"That was amazing. What was it?"

He takes the plate and puts it behind the counter before doing the same with my fork.

"Chocolate lava cake. When it's heated the insides melt, hence the lava part. Did you enjoy it?"

He is clearly messing with me and I chuckle.

"That was amazing Peeta. How much do I owe you?"

His face darkens as if he has just now noticed our comfortable joking manner and he shakes his head.

"Nothing Katniss."

A bit of me dies inside as I watch him pull back into himself and before I can stop myself I am grabbing his arm. He tenses and I second-guess my rash actions momentarily thinking I might have triggered a flashback, but I am relieved when he takes a deep breath and relaxes into my touch.

"Peeta."

His name hangs in the air between us before I continue in a whisper.

"I miss you."

"What?"

I raise my voice a little so he is actually able to hear me.

"I miss you."

My hand is still on his forearms and my fingers have subconsciously started rubbing the scar that he has from when he put his hand through a window. Another blemish on his body caused by me.

"I'm sorry Peeta, I was out of line before. I had no right to be angry, I- I shouldn't have just assumed that things would change because we had a mea-" I can't bring myself to repeat his words, his kiss was anything but meaningless, " because we kissed."

His gaze is anguished as it flicks back and forth between my eyes and my fingers on his arm.

"I miss you too."

His voice is so low and broken that I almost don't hear it but the words give me hope.

"So, where do we go from here?"

He sighs and runs his hand through his shaggy hair.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do, or what I'm ready for."

I grab his hand again to prevent him from getting too worked up.

"Hey, it's okay. Why don't we just be friends? We can do that right?"

_Can I do that? Can I just be friends with Peeta?_

I realize then that I have to. Haymitch was right, it was my turn now. I had to be there for Peeta no matter what the cost, I owed him that much.

He sighs as if a burden is lifted from his shoulders and he nods his head.

"Friends. I would like that a lot Katniss."

I nod in return and squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"Friends it is then."

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><p>Another big thanks to Ameiko go check out her PeetaKatniss story "Stories of Us". It is pretty freakin awesome if I do say so myself.


	6. Chapter 6

Previously:

_"I miss you."_

_"I'm sorry Peeta, I was out of line before. I had no right to be angry, I- I shouldn't have just assumed that things would change because we had a mea-" I can't bring myself to repeat his words, his kiss was anything but meaningless, " because we kissed."_

_"I miss you too."_

_"So, where do we go from here?"_

_"I don't know. I don't know what to do, or what I'm ready for."_

_"Hey, it's okay. Why don't we just be friends? We can do that right?"_

_Can I do that? Can I just be friends with Peeta?_

_"Friends. I would like that a lot Katniss."_

_I nod in return and squeeze his hand reassuringly._

_"Friends it is then."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Peeta walks through my door just as the sun should be setting, although you can't tell today since it is blocked by the dark rain clouds overhead. He shakes his head, water droplets flying off of him and hangs his jacket in the front hall. He is soaked and I look to see that the spring storm outside has worsened considerably.

He shoots me a smile and kicks off his shoes, leaving them underneath his dripping coat as to not track water inside.

"Hey."

I return his smile and give him a little wave before grabbing a towel out of the linen closet and throwing it at him.

"Thanks. It's really coming down out there."

As if to prove his point the rain changes directions and starts banging against the windows in sheets. I let out a little laugh.

"I can see that. How was work?"

"Dead. I ended up just mostly doing some paperwork. We're getting new shipments in next week and I have to make sure were set for when the nice weather breaks."

"Well I'm sure that nobody wanted to brave the storm. I didn't even have to go in today, obviously."  
>He follows me into the kitchen where I was working on a simple dinner. My cooking skills hadn't improved much, but I was at the point where I could make a few simple meals. I stir the pot of stew on the stove, and I can feel him come up behind me and take a big whiff through his nose.<p>

"Well, it certainly smells edible."

His comment receives a light elbow to the ribs and he huffs in mock hurt before chuckling and sitting down at the table. I pour some boiling water into two mugs for us before adding bags of tea and setting his down in front of him. Tea that wasn't made of simple mint leaves was a luxury that my family could never afford before the Games, but I have grown to like the warm drink, finding comfort in its soothing qualities.

"So what's for dinner?"

I set the stove on low, letting the stew simmer before taking my cup and joining him at the table.

"Stew."

He rolls his eyes playfully before taking a sip of his tea.

"Well obviously. Care to tell me what's in the stew?"

I glare at him, leaning back in my chair.

"Nope. Guess you'll just have to guess what type of mystery meat it is."

Since our agreement to be friends, we had developed an informal routine. We would work at our respective jobs during the day and at night come together for dinner. After dinner would be spent doing mundane things, some nights in complete silence, others in nonstop conversation. Every now and again Haymitch would venture out of his man cave to join us.

He chuckles and leans over the table, warming his hands on his mug. The temperature had dropped significantly with this storm and the house had a slight chill to it.

"So I was thinking that tonight we should work on the book."

I freeze in my seat, my mind flashing back to the last time we worked on it and the repercussions after. Him asking if I still loved him, me answering that I did. Our kiss, him running out of the house, leaving me wanting more. Our confrontation in the bakery, which lead to months of not talking to each other.

He must sense my hesitation and know where my mind is currently taking me because he lets out a sigh.

"It's fine Katniss. We don't have to."

"N-no. It's okay. We need to finish it anyway."

He seems to let out a sigh of relief, and I serve our dinner. Our idle conversation continues throughout the meal and we leave the dishes to be cleaned for later before situating ourselves in the family room. I pull the heavy book off of the shelf, dusting it off with my hand before sitting it on the coffee table.

Peeta picks it up and flips through it before stopping on the first of many pages that contain his family. His fingers trace over the drawing that he had done of them before coming to rest on the stern face of his mother.

"Does it make me a bad person? The fact that I don't miss her?"

I pull my leg underneath me before bending the other to my chest to rest my chin on.

"No Peeta. It doesn't."

This is the first time he has talked openly about his family since they were killed, and I don't push the subject, leaving an opening for him to take if he wants to.

"She was something else. Do you know she never once told me she loved me? Not once."

My heart constricts at the thought. When my father had been alive he would express his love for both Prim and I before he left for work in the morning as well as when he returned at night. My mother, no matter how warped her mind was after his death, still had her little ways of showing us of her love, even if I was unable to see it at the time.

"When I burnt the bread, she was furious. She called me worthless, said she wished she'd never had me. Worst part of it was, my dad just stood there, let her hit me with that damn rolling pin. I was only eleven, she could have killed me."

I take his hand in mine, giving it a light squeeze. We both know that what he did that day saved my life and I know that nothing I ever do will be able to repay him for it.

"It was worth it though," he squeezes my hand back and gives me a small smile. "Every time that pin hit me I just kept thinking about you face, how hollow your cheeks were and how the spark had left your eyes. I couldn't just stand there and not do anything. It was worth it to see the life come back into you in the following weeks."

I am gripping his hand now, surely cutting off the circulation.

"When I came back from the Games I thought it might be different you know? I mean, I was a Victor of the Hunger Games. I had managed to survive the odds, and come home with my District partner no less."

He shoots me a small smile and returns my squeeze on his hand.

"You know what the first thing she did to me was?"

I think of my homecoming and the hugs and affection I had received from Prim and my family. Of the overwhelming sense of home that had flooded me after the terrors I had survived in the previous month in the arena.

"When I got back to the house, she smacked me. Asked me how I could put my hands on a filthy Seam rat."

He pulls his hand from mine and grips his head, eyes clenched before shooting off the couch to pace in front of it.

"She didn't even care that I had survived! She said she'd rather I'd have died in the arena than to have come back with you on my arm. Here I was thinking that for the first time in my life she was going to be proud of me! What a god damn joke huh? I survived the odds, I killed innocent children to come home and all she could care about is the fact that I had come home with the love of my life, and that she was from the Seam."

He takes a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down and returns to sitting on the couch.

"After we had been home for a while and we weren't seeing each other she sat me down to talk with me. Once again I thought that maybe she was coming around and that she would be there as a mom, but again I gave her too much credit."

He takes a deep breath and pulls his knees to his chest, looking like a lost child instead of the man that he is.

"She sat me down and told me that the reason you didn't want me was because I wasn't man enough. I wasn't whole, and no woman would ever want me because of it."

It took me a while to realize his meaning, but when I saw him absentmindedly stroking the hard metal of his prosthetic underneath his pant leg it all clicked. Rage filled me at the thought of this woman. What right did she have to say these things to her own son!

"Peeta look at me."

His sorrowful gaze turned to meet mine. I had always envied the merchant kids, never having to worry about putting food on the table, always having enough. But I would have rather lived a thousand lifetimes in my household with my loving father than one day with that witch of a woman.

"You don't believe her do you?"

His gaze averted from mine and his hand came to a halt, jerking away from his fake limb, giving me my answer.

"Peeta. Don't you dare for a second believe that nonsense! You survived the Hunger Games, twice! You've been through hell and back multiple times and the fact that you have managed to come out of it all still alive is a blessing in and of itself. No one thinks your any less of a man because you are missing part of your leg! _I_ don't think you're any less of a man for it."

For the first time since I had known him, Peeta looked unsure of himself. He was always the sweet talker, ever confident in his words as well as his body. But even the strongest had their insecurities and for him it was his leg. More importantly, what I thought of his leg.

I grabbed his chin, forcing his gaze to meet mine as I sat up on me knees next to him.

"You are one of the bravest people I know Peeta. This," I nod my head down to his leg, "Only serves as a reaffirmation of that fact. You lost your leg trying to save my life. I could never look down on you for it."

His eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against mine, one of his hands settling on my waist. He breathed in relief as if a large burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Thank you."

I left a burning kiss on his forehead in response before returning to my side of the couch and debating on whom to put in the book next.

We worked on the book in a comfortable silence for about an hour, the wind and rain outside whistling as it pounded against the sides of the house. An occasional streak of lightening would flash across the sky, followed moments later by loud claps of thunder, letting us know that the storm was right overhead.

After a particularly loud crack of thunder left the windows rattling, and the lights flickered once before shutting off all together, leaving the house pitch black. The only light provided was from the lightening and I reached out for Peeta in the dark. He brought me into his arms, holding me closely as the storm raged on.

"We should light some candles. Do you have a flashlight?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure."

He chuckled before pulling me up off the couch and grabbing my hand. We felt our way through the darkness, each of us hitting our legs and knees on various pieces of furniture that seemed to spring up out of nowhere. By the time we made it to the kitchen we were both laughing at each other's expense. I heard an 'oof' as Peeta no doubt ran into the doorframe and I giggled as he let out a curse.

"All right. You wait here and I'll go find it. No use for both of us to get the crap beat out of us by inanimate objects."

I could only hear him as he stumbled around the kitchen, opening drawers as he fumbled around. Finally with a click a bright beam of light illuminated the kitchen before settling right in my eyes.

"Ah! No need to blind me Peeta."

"Sorry, sorry. Alright, now for some candles."

Somehow, he managed to find a dozen candles and proceeded to light them throughout the family room. We found a deck of cards and were in the middle of a game when a pathetic meowing sound came from the front door. I opened it only to have a soaking wet and miserable Buttercup come sprinting in, hissing at me for making him wait out in the rain. He ran straight to Peeta and started to annoyingly meow as he tried in vain to rid his coat of water.

Peeta sympathetically picked him up before drying him off with a fresh towel from the linen closet, cooing at him and rubbing him behind the ears, causing the hideous feline to purr. His scrunched up face turned to me and he hissed at me again, before cuddling up on Peeta's lap. I chuckled and sat down on the couch, obviously our temporary bond had been broken when he found someone else who would dote over him.

We spent the next hour simply talking, Buttercup asleep in Peeta's lap. When I couldn't contain a yawn Peeta picked up the cat and set him on the couch before making his way over to his raincoat. I glanced outside, the storm not seeming to have let up at all.

"You should stay. You can't walk home in this."

He seemed to hesitate, glancing between the door and me.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded, exhaustion overtaking me.

"Of course. There are like 5 bedrooms in this house that aren't being used. Grab some candles and the flashlight."

He followed me up the stairs and into one of the guest rooms. I grabbed some clean sheets and he helped me make the bed before heading off to the bathroom, candle in hand. I grabbed the flashlight and a candle for myself and made my way to my room, changing into flannel pants and a tshirt before brushing my teeth and heading out to make sure Peeta was okay.

The door to the bathroom opened just as I was passing it and I ran into a solid wall of man flesh. I jumped back startled and heat flooded me as I took in the man in front of me.

He was clad only in his boxers, the light of the flame from the candles we each held flickered across his light skin, casting shadows and dancing across the muscles underneath. The darkness cast shadows over his face, accentuating his strong jaw line and his bright eyes.

The clearing of his throat snapped me out of my daze and I jumped back murmuring an apology. He chuckled and asked if everything was alright.

"I was just coming to make sure you had everything you needed."

"I'm fine Katniss. Thanks for letting me stay. Hopefully we'll have power back by the morning."

We said goodnight to each other and retired to our respectful rooms before falling asleep.

_I was in the Capitol sewers again. The scent of blood and roses invaded my senses as we all ran for our lives. I could hear the hiss of my name over and over again as the lizard mutts gained on us. Then we were climbing, they had caught us and just as I reached the top I hear a scream. I turned around, knowing I would be looking into the eyes of a dying Finnick, but I let out a scream of my own at the sight before me. _

_Not only was Finnick staring back at me, his flesh being torn from his bones, but Peeta's icy blue stare met mine. The mutts were ripping into his flesh, blood spurted from his wounds as he struggled in vain against them. His screams of pain invaded my ears and I struggled against Gale's arms as he held me back from saving them. _

I struggled against the strong arms around me, my body covered in sweat as I tried in vain to save Peeta.

"Katniss. Shhh. It's okay. It was just a nightmare."

My vision came into focus and I realized that I wasn't in the sewers, but back in my room at Victor's Village. The strong arms around me belonged to Peeta and were rocking me back and forth, soothing me, instead of holding me back. I let out a sob and clutched him closer to me.

"You're alive."  
>He let out a little chuckle, still rocking me.<p>

"Yup. It was just a nightmare Katniss, everything is okay."

"How did you know?"

"I heard you screaming. I hope it's okay that I'm here."

I nodded my head, my breathing returning to normal. Laying down on the bed, I grabbed his hand when he went to leave.

"Stay."

He nodded and slipped into bed behind me, his strong arms encasing me in their warmth as we both drifted off to sleep, free from our nightmares.

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><p>AN: Woot woot! Give it up for Ameiko the best Beta ever.


	7. Chapter7

**ATTENTION!**

I will be continuing to update on this site! If and when this story gets removed (thanks a lot ffn) then you can find my stories on my tumblr - There are also some pics that I created that I think you'll all enjoy ;)

Also… if you want to PM me your email addresses I can send out a mass email when I update and include the tumblr link to it (that way you don't have to constantly check to see if it's updated).

I will be starting this now as to not have to scramble once the story gets removed!

Thanks again for all your lovin and reviews! Best readers ever! And thanks a million to my beta Ameiko

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><p><em>Previously:<em>

_My vision came into focus and I realized that I wasn't in the sewers, but back in my room at Victor's Village. The strong arms around me belonged to Peeta and were rocking me back and forth, soothing me, instead of holding me back. I let out a sob and clutched him closer to me._

_"You're alive."_  
><em>He let out a little chuckle, still rocking me.<em>

_"Yup. It was just a nightmare Katniss, everything is okay."_

_"How did you know?"_

_"I heard you screaming. I hope it's okay that I'm here."_

_I nodded my head, my breathing returning to normal. Laying down on the bed, I grabbed his hand when he went to leave._

_"Stay."_

_He nodded and slipped into bed behind me, his strong arms encasing me in their warmth as we both drifted off to sleep, free from our nightmares._

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Since the night of the storm, Peeta and I had reached an unspoken agreement that we both slept significantly better in the presence of one another. Every night after that found us together either in his bed or mine. Our friendship seemed to grow leaps and bounds, blooming to life like the plants outside as spring slowly turned to summer.

We had fallen into a loose routine, each of us rising before the sun as he went to work and I would either find myself in the woods or in the company of Haymitch before venturing into town to continue construction. We would eat together, sometimes in the company of our mentor, before venturing upstairs to sleep.

Although his presence at night didn't quell my night terrors altogether, they did drop significantly since our sleeping arrangements changed. When I would awake bathed in sweat and clawing at the sheets, my throat still raw from screaming, he would be there to find comfort in. His strong arms wrapped tightly around me, shielding me from the darkness that the nightmares brought.

This was also the case for his flashbacks. His condition was significantly worse at night, the light of day unable to shine reality across the dark recesses of his inner mind. Some nights it would take minutes for him to truly grasp the reality of the situation that he was in, as he would wake up thrashing and yelling nonsense, begging invisible enemies to end his life. It would normally require every light in the room being turned on and talking to him in smooth calming voices until the demons that plagued his mind retreated back to the remote places from which they originated.

Neither one of us were remotely close to being what people would call "normal", but every day we were together showed progress as the night terrors and flashbacks grew further and further apart. The comfort and solace that we brought each other made them easier, neither one of us having to face the innermost workings of our very damaged minds alone.

We found comfort in the familiar mundane tasks that awaited us day and night, both of us trying to steer clear of any sudden unforeseen events that might push our progress back. This was time to work on ourselves, to become re-accustomed with the familiarity of District 12 and our place in it.

However, our familiarity, our routine, our disregard to anything out of our comfort zone, ended up being our ultimate downfall. A simple letter in the mail blowing any sense of security we had created in our own minds out of the water.

A letter, a simple piece of parchment, had been the catalyst for both of us. The tiny spark that ignited an inferno across the land, burning everything up and not stopping until nothing had been spared from its destruction

It's appearance was simple, an off white envelope which contained a piece of light green paper which smelt of salt and sand. It also contained a picture, a picture of someone who I knew to be long dead. Another face I killed, staring back at me from the glossy confines of the photo paper. This version of him I had never actually seen, however it was easy enough to see that this was him, just a very much younger version of him.

Finnick Odair's sea-green eyes haunted me from the face of a child; his child. His auburn hair fell across a plump soft forehead as the child who possessed his features played with a knotted rope, smiling toothily into the camera. He smiled as if he hadn't a care in the world, as if he was ignorant of the fact that he was missing a parent, a father, and that it was all because of me.

I had originally opened the envelope not expecting much. We occasionally got letters from Delly or Johanna, which came in unmarked envelopes. The rest of our mail was either order logs for the bakery or letters from the Capitol inviting us to extravagant events in our honor, none of which we ever attended.

So a letter from Annie inviting us to the 3rd Birthday party for her and Finnick's son, Finn Jr. as well as a picture of him had me flying up the stairs and into my room so fast that I'm almost positive my feet never actually made contact with a step. I slammed the door to the room, causing the frame to shake and a picture to come flying off the wall and shatter on the hard floor. I clutched my head, the picture of Finnick's son burned forever in the depths of my retinas. I clutched harder, willing the spitting image of the man I killed to leave my brain, but to no avail.

It started out slowly, just an image of Finnick here, a thing he said there, slowly flicking through the time that I knew him. The crunch of a sugar cube in his mouth as he taunted me at the chariots, the despair in his eyes while he silently grieved for Mags on the beach, the way his eyes would light up whenever half crazy Annie Cresta came into the room, the way he looked on his wedding day, and finally those sea-green eyes staring up at me from the sewers as the lizard mutts clawed at his flesh, biting and ripping flesh from bone. The sea-green eyes that looked up at me as a sharp claw separated neck from shoulders, and the acceptance in his gaze at his imminent death right before I dropped the Holo.

I clutched my head harder, pulling my hair in attempt to stop the barrage on my mind, but it did not help. Was this what having a flashback was like? It played on a loop, over and over, and every time no matter what I couldn't change the outcome. Finnick always ended up dead, lifeless and blown to smithereens by the explosive.

"Ahhhhhh!"

I let out a yell as my head surely split in two. Someone had finally found me and decided to put an axe in the back of my skull. I fell to the ground desperately reaching around my head for the intruding weapon that I was sure to find lodged deep inside my cranium but came up empty. Yet the pain still kept coming, increasing every time the loop started.

I tried opening my eyes, only to squeeze them back shut, the process of keeping them open being to painful to bear.

"Please. Oh, God, please. Make it stop."

I whimpered as I clutched my head, rocking back and forth on the floor like a child having a fit. The pain was nearly unbearable, as if Clove had finally got to me and was slowly inserting her knife into my brain, but the knife was dull and didn't give a clean quick death.

What was happening to me? Was I dying? Had my body finally taken the full brunt of what it could handle and was giving up on itself?

This was how Peeta had found me just minutes later. I had been screaming and cursing, clutching my head trying everything I could to make the pain go away. I hadn't heard him come up the stairs, my mind too focused on trying to block out the visions and the pain, however when I heard a series of expletives fly from his mouth and felt his strong arms wrap around me I let out a whimper.

"Katniss! What happened? Oh God, Katniss, are you all right?"

"Peeta, please," my voice was pathetic and far away. "Please, make it stop."

The pain pounded harder in my skull as a black tint started to overcome the images of Finnick that still plagued my mind, slowly blurring them out as the pain increased. Peeta's voice was muted, as if he were talking underwater and a mile away, and I could faintly make out my name coming from his lips before the images faded to black and I slipped away into what surely was going to be the most painful death.

When I awoke it was in a room completely unfamiliar to me, yet the layout was strikingly correspondent with the bedrooms inside of both Peeta and my houses. My surroundings smelt of musk and dust with a hint of lemon that burned my nostrils. I opened my eyes and was relieved to find that the crippling pain was gone, probably leaving with my demise.

As I took in my surroundings I realized that I wasn't dead, I was in another house in Victor's Village. A movement to my right caught my eye and I was equally startled and relieved to see Haymitch asleep in an uncomfortable looking chair at the end of the bed. I called his name to wake him up, only to have a pathetic squeak escape my mouth instead, my voice refusing to cooperate.

However, my insignificant noise seemed to be enough as he jumped out of his chair, eyes wide and crazed as he slashed the air with his fist. He quickly realized where he was and his eyes widened in surprise as the settled on me before he settled back into his chair and eyed my form.

"Good to see you up, sweetheart. You gave us all quite the scare."

I wanted to ask what happened but my voice failed me again, a pain radiating from the back of my throat as my vocal chords refused to cooperate.

"Don't hurt yourself. You screamed yourself out of a voice. Won't be getting that back for a couple of days according to the good doctor. I'm assuming you want to know what happened don't you?"

I nodded my head in compliance.

"Well, to make a long story short you had a panic attack. Guess after all the crazy shit that went down you finally snapped. Congratulations sweetheart, you're certifiably insane."

I had never wished for vocal cords more in my life. Instead, I settled on sending him the most hate filled glare I could muster. I thought back to those moments before blacking out, to Peeta's arm around me, and his panic at seeing me in that state. As if he knew where my train of thought was heading Haymitch spoke out before I could ask about him.

"I'm gonna go get the doctor. He can explain everything to you."

He flew out the door before I could physically protest, leaving me with unanswered questions.

Not a minute later a man with salt and peppered hair arrived in the room, he was studying a clipboard he had in front of him before he looked up and met my eyes. His gaze was warm and friendly, not at all cold and calculating like the doctors I was used to dealing with, and he offered his hand in greetings as he reached the side of the bed.

He introduced himself before instructing me that attempting to talk would do nothing but increase the stress on my vocal chords and leave me out of commission longer. He gave me a pad of paper and a pen to write down questions and answers. After covering the basics of what I was doing, what was going on, and why he thought that the picture of Finnick's son triggered it he explained to me what happened.

"To be completely honest, Katniss, I am surprised that this hasn't happened before on a level of this intensity. Your body has been through more than anyone should have to endure and it has its own ways of dealing with certain situations. In your case, Finnick was probably just the straw that broke the camel's back. All your symptoms point to a severe panic attack, even the hallucinations you were experiencing can be brought on by them, as well as the pain your body was feeling. Finally, your body couldn't handle the stress of the attack and shut itself down."

He proceeded to tell me that panic attacks were treatable similarly to the way Peeta's flashbacks were. Recognizing when one was coming on was the first step, followed by not panicking over the fact that you were starting to have a panic attack… which I'm assuming is easier said than done. He also told me that there were medications available for fast action relief and prescribed me a bottle to be used with utmost caution. Finally after covering all of his bases he asked me if I had any questions.

_Where's Peeta? And why am I in Haymitch's room?_

My pen and notebook did the talking for me.

The slight smile fell from his face.

"Well, Katniss, when Peeta found you on the ground like that it triggered certain synapses in his brain. These synapses had yet to be tripped during his flashbacks, and we have just recently found out that they have a much more severe reaction sequence than the ones triggered during his previous episodes."

He must have read the dumbfounded look on my face and sighed before running his hand through his graying hair.

"The flashback that was provoked opened up a deep dark part of Peeta's brain, a part that had yet to be affected, but can be catastrophic now that is has been reached. When I arrived at the scene Haymitch was holding Peeta back from killing you. He was not himself, Katniss. When Haymitch locked him out of the room he snapped, he destroyed the house, broke windows, furniture, mirrors, and then he beat himself silly trying to break down the door to get to you. Finally, we had to resort to sedating him."

I shook my head as my eyes burned with tears.

"When he came to, he didn't remember anything that happened. The last thing he remembered was trying to get you to wake up and then it all went black. His mind is not as stable now as we were hoping. He saw what he did to your house and immediately left back to his and I haven't seen him since. You are being kept here for your own safety."

Tears silently streamed down my face as I shook my head in denial. This couldn't be happening. We were both doing so well. We had each other, we had our routines, we had our jobs and our District 12 family and dare I say we had our happiness? I refused to believe that within a short day, a miniscule 24 hours, that had been taken away from us. We had lost everything. I had gone back to being the insane Mockingjay, and Peeta the Capitol Mutt killer.

One tiny step forward, a thousand giant steps back.

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><p>Reviews are greatly appreciated!<p> 


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